


He Just Smoked My Eyelids and Punched My Cigarette

by doctornemesis



Category: One Piece
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sanji, Cigarettes, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fights, Fingerfucking, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Riding, Shotgunning, Smoking, smoking fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 12:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornemesis/pseuds/doctornemesis
Summary: “Want one?” Sanji asked, waving a cigarette at him as Zoro rolled over onto his back, catching his breath.“Those things are terrible for your health,” he said, folding an arm under his head, pulling Sanji closer to him. “But I’ll take one of those bottles of rum now.”---Zoro has a fetish he's never expressed nor acted upon, but a particular fight with Sanji exposes the truth.





	He Just Smoked My Eyelids and Punched My Cigarette

**Author's Note:**

> ❀ As stated in the tags, this story revolves around a smoking kink on Zoro's part. I feel like that just needs to be restated as it features prominently in this fic. 
> 
> ❀ The title comes from the Bob Dylan song 'Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again.'
> 
> ❀ As always, I own neither One Piece nor any of the characters here mentioned. 
> 
> ❀ Enjoy! <3

The sky, mostly dark with faint traces of blue and orange, unfurled itself at the feet of the rising sun. An otherwise transcendent sight spoiled only by another fight between him and the cook less than four hours from the last one. Sanji had already chewed him out once before, but his apparent hunger had not been satiated because he was bent at the waist, mere inches away from Zoro’s face as he hollered, cigarette held haphazardly in one hand as the other waved to and fro. Zoro could feel his level of annoyance on the rise, but he did not wish to engage in another fight so soon. Also, he couldn’t quite understand why Sanji insisted on being this rabid about something Zoro didn’t perceive as  _ that  _ serious.

 

“You done yet?” he asked after the cook paused to take a breath or two from his strained lungs. 

 

The question served only to incite the blonde further, foot blocked from Zoro’s head by a broad forearm. Zoro mused that he should have simply allowed for the kick to connect as what followed next was, in his opinion, far worse. Sanji, in his typical, rebellious asshole fashion took it upon himself to inhale a large drag from his cigarette, holding it in his lungs as he once again leaned forward, blowing smoke directly into Zoro’s line of sight. His face turned blood red, but the change in hue had nothing to do with anger, and  _ everything  _ to do with a sudden influx of heat pooling into the pit of his stomach. The swordsman shuddered from head-to-toe as he fought the overwhelming and mortifying moan that threatened to tear forth from his lips.

 

Zoro leapt to his feet, the feeling of chagrin and indignation mixing together and ascending  on the horizon. His glare held little to no effect on Sanji which only served to piss Zoro off more as well as made his knees go somewhat weak as the blonde’s stick of Death dangled from slightly parted lips. Zoro bit his lip in order to refrain from mimicking the motion, his arms crossed as he decided the best course of action for him to take would be to simply remove himself from the situation at hand. Of course, Sanji appeared to have other plans. A commanding hand fastened itself down upon a sturdy shoulder, reeling Zoro around fullforce. 

 

“I’m  _ not  _ through with you yet,” Sanji said as he took another puff from his dwindling cigarette, causing the flames lapping at Zoro’s insides to climb ever higher to the point where they threatened to consume the swordsman whole. 

 

Zoro broke free from Sanji’s hold with a low grunt and animalistic sneer. “Maybe you’re not done with  _ me _ , but I’m more than done with _ you _ ,” he said, a near panic threatening to take control of him if he didn’t vacate the premises as soon as possible.

 

“Listen here,  _ shitty-marimo _ ,” he said, filling his lungs up to the brim with smoke before releasing the thick, gray stream back into Zoro’s antagonized features and flared nostrils as close as possible. “ _ We’re done when I say we’re— _ ”  

 

Zoro cut the other off with a jarring press of lips against lips, a large hand wrapped tight around the thick of Sanji’s throat as he dug his thumb into the delicate flesh. “You wanna keep blowing that smoke directly into my face,  shitty-cook ?” he asked, grimacing as Sanji swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, a pleased grin rising above his lack of oxygen. 

 

“I fucking knew it!” he cried out, gasping as Zoro released his unforgiving hold. “You’re  _ so  _ into it!”

 

Zoro felt stripped of his skin as he turned his back to the blonde, aiming to take his place atop the crow’s nest, desperate to escape the situation at hand. “Whatever,” he said, not even thinking to give Sanji’s form a retreating once over. 

 

The uncomfortable constriction encroaching upon both his boxer briefs as well as his already taut, form fitting black pants made his mouth dry, and it hard to swallow. Zoro needed to retreat to the one place that served as his sanctuary where he could train until his body unraveled, and where he could capture something resembling privacy in order to “relieve” himself. The shame and the dread he felt not nearly enough to quell his urge to stimulate himself to a quick and dirty climax splattered all over his hand and stomach at the thought of Sanji breathing smoke all along Zoro’s body, but mostly directed in the vicinity of his face. The swordsman keened low within his throat, the humiliation he felt at his own foolish desires near intolerable. Zoro, for the most part, had kept this affliction locked away and concealed from the outside world, but leave it to Sanji to goad him on for  _ years  _ until, at last, his world renowned self-discipline had worn away. 

 

Zoro made his way up the ropes that surrounded the mast, tension thrumming throughout his body as he climbed up the ladder that led to an opening in the metal flooring of the crow’s nest. A sigh of relief, as short lived as it ended up being, passed through his lips. The sight of his exercising equipment always carried a serene feeling of calm that enabled him to both compose and refocus himself. Zoro set about re-racking the weights, concentrating on the feel and density of each one. A war rampaged inside him still, but the swordsman remained determined to overcome the equal amounts of lust and embarrassment he felt. 

 

All he needed to do was to put Sanji both out of sight and out of mind, but of course the cook couldn’t leave it alone. 

 

“Hey, you! _ Marimo-head _ ,” he said, blonde head popping up through the small opening as he did so. “I  _ said  _ I wasn’t through with you yet!”

 

Zoro gave a low grunt, ready to stomp on the cook’s head with the heel of his boot. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, arms crossed as he glared down at the other man. 

 

“The only thing wrong here is  _ your  _ manners, but that’s no surprise coming from an  _ uncivilized swine  _ such as yourself. _ However _ , I’ve brought a peace offering...of sorts,” Sanji said as three bottles of liquor appeared inside the room before he, himself, did.

 

A smart move on his part. 

 

“Rum?”

 

“I’ll be breaking poor _ Nami-swan’s~ _ heart by going through them all at once, but I figure this’ll be worth it.”

 

Zoro quirked a lone, green brow at that. “You figure  _ what  _ will be worth it?” he asked, watching as Sanji threw a series of brightly colored throws down onto the floor.

 

Sanji chuckled at the question, removing a couple of cushions from their places atop the long, circular bench before plopping them down to the floor as well. The cook winked at Zoro as he undid the knot of his tie, freeing the black silk material with a lone white peacock feather pictured on it from around his neck. Zoro felt as perplexed as he did flustered, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck as he willed his growing sense of agitation to simmer before it threatened to boil over. 

 

“ _ You _ ,” he said as he proceeded to undo the brass buttons of his black tailored suit jacket. “Fucking  _ me _ . As I smoke a pack of  _ these _ .” 

 

There came those dreaded, obscene images rushing at him again fullforce. Zoro wanted to tell him to stop; to just fuck off as he’d been humiliated enough for the day, but if there was one thing Sanji loved more than getting under Zoro’s skin, it was getting underneath him—skin on skin. Zoro felt a flush rise across the bridge of his nose and along his cheeks as all the blood rushed straight back down towards his groin. 

 

“Who said I wanted to fuck you?”

 

Sanji laughed in his wake as he lit a fresh cigarette―the first of a brand new pack, the smell of which caught Zoro’s immediate interest and full attention. Zoro swallowed hard around the lump that had formed in his throat, mesmerized as deft fingers worked to loosen the pearl buttons of an overly expensive ivory dress shirt with peacock feathers printed all-over. Sanji’s taste were opulent as ever, just one of his many vices. Zoro’s tongue sat heavy behind his teeth, saliva flooding his mouth as succulent, fair skin laid bare before him. The urge to touch, kiss and bite loomed over his head. 

 

“Come on,” he said as he approached the swordsman from across the room. Body mere inches away from his. “I don’t even need to touch you to know how hard you are right now.  _ Let me make it up to you _ .”

 

Zoro’s arms remained crossed, jaw tense as he tried not to cave into the other. Sanji took a hit from his cigarette, holding it between middle and forefinger as he leaned in close, lips ghosting across lips as he awaited access to Zoro’s mouth. The cook didn’t have long to wait as Zoro yielded to his will, lips parting as Sanji exhaled the smoke he had held into the other’s waiting mouth. 

 

Shotgunning, Zoro had never even heard of the term until one day he had overheard Sanji explaining the concept to a curious Robin, a somewhat grossed out Usopp, and an uninterested Luffy who merely wanted snacks.  

 

Zoro swallowed down the taste of nicotine and Sanji’s essence with an eager little sound that got caught somewhere in his throat. Sanji’s free hand secured itself around the back of the swordsman’s neck, short nails raking across the sensitive flesh, causing goosebumps to spread across Zoro’s body like wildfire. Their tongues met, pushed and pulled as each fought to gain the upperhand. 

 

“Your clothes need to go,” Zoro said as they broke the kiss, each in dire need of air. 

 

Sanji chuckled, taking another drag of his cigarette, pupils dilated and eyelids heavy. “Then remove them,” he said. “And don’t you even  _ think  _ about cutting them up.”

 

Zoro rolled his eyes, but complied with the other’s wishes, sliding his already unbuttoned dress shirt up and over his shoulders, tossing it aside on a nearby bench as he turned his attention to the black leather belt that restricted his access to the cook’s slacks. Sanji’s cigarette hung loose in between his lips as his hands helped to unzip the fly of his pants, chest flushed as it rose and fell at a rapid pace. A soft, drawn-out groan escaped Sanji’s mouth as Zoro forced his boxer-briefs down around pale, slender thighs. Sanji’s cock strained up towards his stomach, fully hard and waiting to be touched. 

 

“Looks like I’m not the only one getting off on this,” he said, voice raspy even to his own ears. 

 

“ _ Idiot _ ,” Sanji said, grinding the butt of his cigarette out into an ashtray he had brought with him. “Pants off.  _ Now _ .”  

 

Zoro didn’t listen, choosing instead to remove his plain white shirt. Sanji lit his second cigarette, blowing smoke across Zoro’s neck and chest as he bit along the sensitive areas. A vulgar sound left Zoro’s mouth as Sanji’s hands delved under the band of his boxers, fingers kneading the flesh of the swordsman’s ass as he gave him the proper incentive to move along in the direction he so desired. Fully undressed, Sanji rearranged the cushions and the bedding into something suitable for them to use. 

 

The cook looked at him with a hunger he had never seen before, and far be it for Zoro to let another starve if he could help it. 

 

“ _ Fuck _ , you’re gorgeous.” he said as Zoro laid flat on his back, body coming under the blonde’s leering gaze.  

 

Zoro sucked in a breath as Sanji took ahold of his cock in one hand, licking a clean strip up the underside of his length. The cook gave him a cheshire-like grin as he climbed up and over his body, placing a brief kiss to the side of his neck, a known weak point of his. Sanji then placed a series of short-lived kisses along his chest before focusing all of his attention on Zoro’s sensitive nipples, biting and sucking as the swordsman writhed beneath him. He did all of this in between long pulls from his cigarette. Zoro’s body thrummed as Sanji’s breath ghosted along his skin, pleasure brimming from deep within him. 

 

“You taste fucking amazing,” Sanji said as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the side of Zoro’s jaw. “How am I making you feel?” Zoro laced his fingers through Sanji’s hair, pulling the cook down for another kiss, teeth and tongue prying Sanji’s lips apart, taking as much as they could get away with. “That good, huh?” he sad with a breathless sort of laugh. 

 

The room felt sweltering, and his body felt scorched as if by flames at the cook’s mere touch. Sanji lit his third cigarette as he sat up, positioning himself in between Zoro’s thighs as anticipation flooded the air around them. He exhaled a long stream of smoke over the head of Zoro’s cock, tonguing the slit as he swallowed him down. The air fled the swordsman’s lungs at the sudden onslaught of Sanji’s mouth, his head bobbing up and down as his throat relaxed around the thickness if Zoro’s shaft. 

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he said, groaning as his hands once again found themselves planted in Sanji’s hair, fucking his mouth nice and slow as Sanji moaned down around him, the vibrations of which emanating throughout his entire body. “Cook,  _ stop _ .” 

 

Zoro knew he couldn’t sustain himself at this level, Sanji’s mouth was too warm and too inviting. Sanji pulled away with a loud “pop!”, much to Zoro’s dismay and relief. The swordsman sat up as Sanji once again bit his neck, except this time he pressed his teeth down a little harder, and held the bite a little longer. Zoro sighed in contentment as the cook sank his teeth into the lobe of his ear, tongue playing with the 3 earrings that adorned it. Sanji knew how to open him up, make him relax under his touch.

 

No easy feat, that. 

 

“Lay back,” he said, watching as Sanji did just that. Zoro handed him his fourth cigarette, lighting it for him before setting the lighter down upon his stomach. A gold piece floating in a sea of pale flesh that stretched out over taut muscle. Zoro knew how to make Sanji feel good, too.  

 

Zoro mimicked Sanji by taking him in one hand, and using the flat base of his tongue to trace the vein that wrapped around the underside of his cock, admiring the length of it. The only part of another person he’d ever allowed inside him. Sanji coughed somewhere above him, a stream curses and moans filtering out around the butt of his cigarette. Zoro gave a smug smirk as he took the head of Sanji’s cock into his mouth, moving in slow, deep motions that contrasted against the cook’s breakneck speed. He wanted this seared into Sanji’s memory, now and a hundred years from now, even if it was the last thing he ever remembered about him. 

 

Because Sanji’s face, underneath him and at his mercy, would be ingrained in Zoro’s mind forever. The way his hair clung to his forehead, adhered by sweat and passion. The blush that spread outwards to the tips of his ears, and the lit end of his cigarette. 

 

Sanji slid a thumb along one of Zoro’s cheekbones, his mouth open as his cigarette begged to fall out. Zoro knew he was close, could tell by how silent he grew, how obsessed with touch he became when the climax was nice and slow and building. Zoro knew he needed to stop before it ended all too soon, but he couldn’t quite help himself. He mouthed at Sanji’s balls, licking and sucking as large plumes of smoke billowed above their heads. Sanji’s toes had begun to curl when he finally stopped. 

 

“Hand me the bottle,” Sanji said, voice as rough as gravel as he waved his hand impatiently. They were both desperate by this point, covered in smoke and sweat and lust that hadn’t been able to expel itself yet. It had been a while, and they were both ready to come apart at the seams. 

 

“Say please,” he said as he held the bottle just out of Sanji’s reach. 

 

“Damn it,  _ marimo _ ! Don’t fuck around at a time like this.”

  
  


Zoro didn’t put up much of a fight, not like he would have been able to even if he really wanted. Sanji, willing and wanting to be fucked like this, it was almost too much for the swordsman to comprehend. Sanji was hard to fight like this. 

 

Zoro felt his jaw go slack as Sanji took possession over the lubricant, remaining flat on his back with his knees propped up as he fingered himself open. Two fingers fully immersed in himself as he alternated between smoking and crying out. Zoro felt as though he had the only seat to a filthy private show, and any sliver of coherent thought he might have been capable of stringing together crumbled to dust, carried out on the humid breeze the ocean brought in. The smell of salt burned his nostrils, his cock giving an interested twitch at what laid spread out before him to drink from. 

 

Three fingers deep, and Sanji cried out his name as he rocked back onto his own fingers. Zoro felt glued to his place on the floor, the bunched up material of the covers embedded into his knees. The cook winked at him, lips pursed as he hissed through his teeth. 

 

Sanji challenged him to do something before it was too late; before he came all over himself on his fingers alone. Zoro snatched the bottle from its place along Sanji’s side, distributing an even amount to the palm of his hand as he slicked up his cock, ready and at full attention. However, Zoro wasn’t above prolonging his own gratification at having their bodies meshed together if it meant the cook suffered a little first.     

  
  


“Just to make sure you’re  _ really  _ good to go,” he said, bearing his teeth in a ravishing grin as he forced two fingers inside the cook at once, curling them up towards his prostate as he drove them in hard. 

 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” Sanji said, his hole clenching down around Zoro’s fingers as he nearly dropped his cigarette, scrambling to find a way to brace himself. “Oh! What the  _ hell  _ are you doing to me? Fuck!”

 

Zoro removed his fingers as he positioned himself in between Sanji’s slender, strong thighs, lining his cock up with Sanji’s relaxed hole as he pressed in with one, steady push. Sanji raked the blunt of his nails down the center of Zoro’s chest with one hand, the other held close to his mouth as he continued to smoke, gaze unflinching and unrelenting. The long, tortuous moan that pushed through his lips with his head thrown back, the blonde strands of his hair like a messy halo, or better yet; a crown above him. The cook brought him down for a harsh, bruising kiss—a tinge of copper and ash as Sanji sucked Zoro’s bottom lip in between his teeth. Filthy, all of it, and it made Zoro want to fuck him all the more. 

 

Sanji did everything he could to keep hold of his cigarette, biting his bottom lip as Zoro began to jerk him off in sync with his powerful, direct thrusts. The cook placed one hand behind the bend of his knee to keep himself spread wide and open as Zoro sundered him apart. The sight of his cock driving in and out of Sanji’s body, watching as he filled the other man to the brim; filled him in a way that no one else could, was intoxicating. 

 

“Switch,” Sanji said, patting Zoro’s thigh. “ _ Switch _ .” 

 

If there was one thing that rivaled having Sanji underneath him, it was having him on top. Sanji filled himself up nice and slow, cigarette clenched between his lips as he concentrated hard on lowering himself down just right. Hot, tight, nothing better. Zoro took Sanji’s waning cock in hand, bringing him back to full attention, stimulating him in a way that made the cook ride hard, rise and fall faster with shorter pauses in between. A punch to the gut is what it felt like, Zoro’s fingers bruising the skin along Sanji’s thighs and hips just to hold on. 

 

The power held in his legs was unrivaled. 

 

The two weren’t going to last, he knew, the way Sanji’s hands clutched at his shoulders, tongue entangled with his as Sanji clenched down around him. The last cigarette had met its end, but no one bothered to light another, there would be no time. Sanji cried out as he sunk his teeth into the side of Zoro’s neck, coming in between them as the swordsman followed soon after with a low grunt and a few choice curses of his own. Sanji climbed off of him, settling onto his stomach as Zoro gazed at his handy work, spreading the cook’s cheeks open as he examined the abused hole there, filled with his come as it seeped out. His cock gave an interested twitch, but he was entirely too spent to act on it. 

 

“Want one?” Sanji asked, waving a cigarette at him as Zoro rolled over onto his back, catching his breath. 

 

“Those things are terrible for your health,” he said, folding an arm under his head, pulling Sanji closer to him. “But I’ll take one of those bottles of rum now.”  

  
  
  
  



End file.
